Inbox tag:blogs.espncricinfo.com,2012:/inbox//140 2012-02-03T12:26:58Z Movable Type 3.34 Cricket in a global village tag:blogs.espncricinfo.com,2012:/inbox//140.27281 2012-02-03T11:53:59Z 2012-02-03T12:26:58Z Cricinfo From Darren Harold, New Zealand
Nothing tops watching a match live at the ground © Getty Images
What a fantastic time to be a cricket fan. As I pen this piece I am part way through a long cricketing day – in hours only, the time is positively racing by! In the space of one day, I’ll hear, read and see the exploits of six international teams playing in all three of the games’ formats via a seemingly endless list of media sources. Over the course of a tiresome Friday in the office, I listened to my native New Zealand turn in a mediocre ODI performance against a Zimbabwean side in Dunedin still struggling to reacclimatise themselves to the rigours of international cricket. Though not the decisive victory they were hoping for, the feats of McCullum, Guptill, Nicol et al. were described via an audio commentary on my laptop, while I checked the details on ESPNcricinfo’s live scoring. Upon arriving home, Aggers, Boycs and Blowers were setting the scene before the opening session of the third Pakistan versus England test from Dubai. Competing with the excited shouts of my young son, their dulcet tones filtered out of my iPad thanks to a digital feed via BBC Radio 5 Live’s Test Match Special (TMS). Very soon, I’ll flick on the television to see if the hapless Indians can finally get a victory on their Australian tour in the second T20 from the MCG. The mute button will be on though so I can keep listening to the game in the desert – that, and I can only take so much of the Channel 9 cheerleading (sorry, commentary) team. ]]> statistics engine to satisfy even cricket’s most knowledge thirsty anorak – ever wondered who has the most Man of the Match awards in a losing ODI side? Online cricket forums continue to pop up with the regularity of an Indian wicket, and we can access most of them via a multitude of apps on our mobile phones. There are plenty of other mediums and they just keep coming – thankfully, my better half is a cricket fanatic too, so I get to indulge my cricketing passion. Many moons ago before we ever met in person she would email me score updates so I can keep up with the cricket during meetings. Even with all the media choices, there is still nothing that tops watching a match live at the ground. It would be easy to never leave the couch, the television, the laptop and the phone, but there is nothing that beats the atmosphere of a live contest. I took my young lad, and his mum, to the final of the HRV Cup T20 a couple of weeks back – his first introduction to our great game. He left three hours later having tried to evade a security guard and invade the field of play, ridden an old roller and clapped Colin de Grandhomme launching the Canterbury attack out of the ground. But the thing that stuck with him? He got a sponsor’s hat that he now tells all and sundry is his ‘cricket hat’ - you can’t get that kind of involvement at home or social media. Finally, if the media all gets a little too much but you still need your cricket fix, get yourself a copy of Wisden. Cricket’s bible has been around since 1864 so the editors must be doing something right – will Twitter have the same longevity?]]> Why a Test Championship is flawed tag:blogs.espncricinfo.com,2012:/inbox//140.27235 2012-01-31T10:43:39Z 2012-01-31T11:03:48Z Cricinfo From Paul Leary, United Kingdom
The battle for supremacy of a sport such as Test cricket can never and must never be compressed to a single game © Getty Images
If recent weeks have told us anything, it’s that to be considered the No. 1 side, you must do more than just top the rankings. This winter, the two most recent incumbents of this prized position have been defeated by Australia and Pakistan respectively. India, a team which spent around 18 months at the top of the pile, have gone down 4-0 to an inexperienced but hungry Australian side, displaying the same technical flaws against the moving ball as were seen during the English summer. England, recently crowned No.1 and lauded copiously as such, have subsided in the heat of the UAE. Despite relatively friendly pitches and a notable lack of ‘rank’ turn, the mere sight of a spinner 22 yards away seemed to be enough to have England’s batsmen nervously shuffling and prodding anywhere but near the ball. There’s a lesson to be learnt. That to be considered the best team in the world more widely than just in the ICC Rankings, a team must win throughout the world, displaying aptitude against pace, seam, swing , and spin, in any and every set of conditions. Based on this conclusion, it’s fair to say that realistically, we are yet to establish another ‘No.1’ side since the retirement of Warne, McGrath, Gilchrist et al in 2007, and the subsequent decline in fortunes of the Australian team after more than a decade of domination. ]]> On England’s recent showing, the search for a successor continues. However, there’s a serious practical consideration to be taken from examining what makes a side truly the best. It concerns something talked about increasingly in recent years as the saviour of Test cricket – the proposed Test Championship. Put forward as an instrument for stimulating bigger crowds and reviving interest in the majority of Test nations outside England and Australia, this championship would see the top four nations compete in semi-finals and a final at the culmination of a four year cycle. Putting aside the fact that interest is unlikely to skyrocket in anticipation of a final four years away, if approved, the inaugural finals would be held in one of the Test countries, most probably England. Spot the problem? The location of these finals would undoubtedly go a substantial way towards determining the winner, and even if that were not the case, the outcome would hardly receive a respectful reception worldwide. Imagine a scenario in which England romp home over an Indian side at Lord’s and are declared the indisputable Test champions for the next four years, rather like is currently the case in ODI cricket. The acceptance of this by the wider cricketing world, especially the subcontinent where cricket is a different ball game, is doubtful to say the least. It would be nice I admit, in a perfect and simple world, to have some sort of definitive competition, ending in one match to crown the winner. However, Test cricket has always been a far more complex and diverse a sport in nature than say, football or rugby. In the modern world, we constantly strive to categorise, define, and seek quick results and instant gratification, both in watching a sport and determining the winner. The beauty of Test cricket is the progression and evolution, the sometimes gradual, sometimes sudden ebb and flow which takes place, both over the course of a five-day contest, but also in the fortunes of a team over a longer period of time, from London to Cape Town, Brisbane to Delhi. Just as the current rankings system is clearly too simplistic and inaccurate, the battle for supremacy of a sport such as Test cricket can never and must never be compressed to a single game either. It is so much more than that. Test cricket in India - The way forward tag:blogs.espncricinfo.com,2012:/inbox//140.26946 2012-01-12T13:37:00Z 2012-01-31T10:52:47Z Nikita Bastian robin Inducting young players into the Indian XI would not in any way diminish the worth of the batting legends © Getty Images
From Balachandhran S, India
Dissection is being campaigned against. It is much maligned, I understand. In schools, children and young adults are encouraged to refrain from practical classes in dissection (biology). In reality that is because animals are sadly extinguished in the name of learning. In sport too, there is dissection. And sometimes sportsmen become the victims of the process. Not at all times is dissection illuminating. But then there is only one thing to do after every game for many people – dissect it threadbare and discuss what could have been. Therefore it is very tempting for us, as fans, to dissect the individual games of the Indian players who have featured in six consecutive away Test defeats. But better still is the process of shining the torch ahead to light up the way, rather than looking behind to see who is catching up and on which stone(s) we stumbled. This, primarily, is one such effort. Personal landmarks, a waste of media time
The peerless Sachin Tendulkar's much touted hundredth hundred probably weighs more on the minds of millions of fans and media people than on the man himself. Popular cricket columnists now claim that Tendulkar's quest for this statistical gem is bothering the entire team – weighing it down and not letting it perform to potential. Not only are such claims laughable, they are also outstandingly ridiculous for the sheer fact that these are people who have played the game at a very high level. When Virender Sehwag or MS Dhoni is facing down a 140kph delivery from James Pattinson or Peter Siddle, their illustrious team-mate's elusive landmark is the last thing on their mind. ]]> Averages, statistics and other lies
Before the series in Australia began, we were fed report upon report as to how embattled Australia's veteran batsmen were. That they certainly were, no arguments about that. The funny thing, though, was that this attention was made out to be a bit unfair in the case of Michael Hussey as he had scored heavily in the previous season. That argument is inherently hollow. You either want the consistency borne out of experience or the exuberance and wild abandon of youth. Sometimes you even want the right mix. But what a sporting team does not expect is wild abandon and inconsistency from their experienced members. The point is, you can have a youngster go without scoring in six or seven matches and still give him a go, citing his inexperience. However, if a senior, having been there and done that for most of his teenage and adult life, falters for a significant period of time, it cannot be looked at in the same light. People tend to fancifully associate elements of faithfulness, respect and even a sense of duty towards these senior players, who have no doubt been the source of inspiration and sometimes everlasting joy to several thousands of people. More so in India, than anywhere else in the world perhaps. But we live, eat, work and play in the present. We feed on our past, yes, but not for long. Moreover, the present fuels the hunger of the future too. With this perspective, once you look at India’s six consecutive away Test defeats, it is slightly damning to say the least. We have always bemoaned our bowlers and their ineffectiveness (relative only to the opposition bowlers), while consistently celebrating our master batsmen. It is only fair to reverse polarities now. Our young bowling unit has toiled manfully and has succeeded more times than not. The celebrated batting doyens – Tendulkar, Rahul Dravid, Sehwag and VVS Laxman have not. Dravid, admittedly, was outstanding all through the recent tour of England. It is another matter that he scored all those runs despite a technical fault that he has developed recently. More on that later. All said and done, the job of these senior cricketers is to ensure unfailing consistency insofar as is humanly possible. If the laxity in rope given to young cricketers extends to, say five Test matches, the sheer experience and know-how of these cricketers only means that they ought to produce results in lesser number of games and keep doing it with more frequency too. This is not something that can be inferred only by numbers and statistics. The day that experience and sheer ability can be quantified is the day the game will lose its charm. There can be science in sport. But sport is not science and thankfully it never will be. In effect, if there is pressure on a senior batsman such as Hussey after just five Tests of low scores, that is rightfully so. The expectations from a seasoned player do not become lesser with time. They always grow. And that is why numbers alone are not an accurate measure of the pressure on each individual. Win and you are right; lose, you are not
This is a syndrome, plain and simple. After more than two decades of following cricket reports, articles and commentary, there is only one thing I have found to be true. No cricketer or team is criticised when the result of the game is a victory. Conversely, sometimes even the best efforts of players and teams are put down when the ultimate result is a loss. For Indian cricket to not only attain that coveted No.1 Test team position but also stay put, this has got to change. The hard words need to be spoken even when the team has won. The nice words have to be said even when the team loses. No two ways about it. This of course is, more than anything, the job of the coach. With all my heart, I hope this happens in the dressing-room.
Even as Rahul Dravid performed match after match in England, a fault had crept into his game but nothing much was said about it as he was scoring runs © AFP
Let us take a specific example in this case. Dravid stood alone in England. He towered over the rest – facing off against Stuart Broad, Tim Bresnan and James Anderson, and everything they had to offer. And he succeeded, match after match. But even as he did that, a fault had crept into his game. Dravid at his best had an initial shuffling movement with his right foot, which brought him in line with the ball. Today, Dravid's right foot moves in the other direction, further down the leg-stump line, most of the time. This translates to his head being positioned around, or sometimes even beyond, off stump in counterbalance. His surety and balance when handling full-length balls is therefore compromised – especially when the ball is directed at his stumps. Nothing much was said about all this when Dravid was scoring runs. But now, when he is not and is exhibiting an alarming tendency for being bowled, everybody raises a hue and a cry. If India are to become the best, this has to change. We Indians need to realise that cricket is not science. That one can succeed in sport even if one is not technically perfect. And that one can fail despite the best preparation and the best technique. Such is the beauty of sport. Let us celebrate it, while understanding the need to be open in communication and criticism when it comes to players, regardless of the end result. Team sport is about the journey. The destination is a mere culmination, a media highlight. In the case of a win, the highest point, yes, but only propped up by the several rungs of achievement that people have clambered past with great effort and overriding solidarity. By the way, don't be surprised if Dravid scores a century in the next game even without changing his current technique. This is exactly what makes Test cricket enchanting. The surfeit of factors involved, and the fact that a Test cannot just be reduced to just one or two angles or numbers. The way forward
We Indians are an emotional bunch at the best of times. In times of adversity, we become overly sensitive, ready to burst aflame at the slightest provocation. But we (this composite ‘we’ being the fans, cricket board, commentators and media people) have a duty: to recognise and back good cricket and cricketers, with a view to see our national team being the best in the world. Not just touching the peak of that mountain with a wild leap only to tumble down owing to gravity, but putting in the hard yards and fighting their way to the top, sinking in the national colours atop the peak and staying put there for a sizable length of time. To that end, the winds of change are blowing right now. Perhaps this is the right time to blood more youth into the Test squad. Let us remember that it was exceedingly tough for youngsters to break into the Indian middle order only because the celebrated seniors had been amazingly successful and consistent, therefore contributing to victory. Note that that previous statement employs the past tense: 'had been', instead of an 'are'. Nobody is sacrosanct or above being dropped for the good of the team. Perth is going to be an acid Test. Not just from the cricketing perspective, but also from a selection point of view. If Rohit Sharma replaces young Virat Kohli, we will have fallen back on erstwhile logic and gone along what is the path of least resistance and/or ridicule, as the case may be. If Rohit and Kohli both play, then we would be sailing into what is essentially uncharted waters for Indian cricket. Waters where we help our Test team to fight in the present, while preparing for the future, where we tell our youth that we are prepared to invest trust and time in them. Where we respect them for who they are and are not forever weighing them down by comparing them with veritable living legends. And let us leave out all discussions of 'fairness', as the Indian sports lover understands the term. Current performance being the only point of interest, infusion of youth into the batting order can only be a logical move. If the younger players are to be found out now, at the highest level, it is for the good of Indian cricket. We can at least look for other options and develop new talent while still holding forth with the senior professionals in the interim. Inducting young players into the XI would not in any way diminish the worth of each one of our batting legends. If any one of them decides to hang up their boots now, they would have already captured an immense amount of good will and mind share among the Indian public, as well as cricket lovers around the world. Our mantra in deciding the squad should ideally be all is fair in love, war and professional sport. Not just this time in Perth. But every single time. ]]> The parallel tales of two writer-cricketers tag:blogs.espncricinfo.com,2012:/inbox//140.26877 2012-01-07T13:54:03Z 2012-01-07T14:09:59Z Nitin Sundar Stuart John, Australia
Can Ed Cowan make more out of his international career than his English namesake? © Getty Images
This sounds familiar to anyone? Regular first-class cricketer plays for over seven years, not excelling but not sinking into the abyss as many have before. Mid-table mediocrity, so to speak. Said cricketer then wakes up one morning and discovers the cricketing fairies (I'd like to imagine Merv Hughes in a Tinkerbell outfit tip-toeing around the house so not to wake anyone up) have turned him into a batting champion. Centuries flow from his bat like beer from the tap, eventually leading to a long-awaited Test call-up. Once there, our hero doesn't disgrace himself either, battling a difficult pitch and a strong bowling attack to make a useful 60-odd before being caught behind; his second innings is less successful, with an lbw decision against him early on. I should probably mention at this point that our hero is already a published author. If you're an Australian cricket fan, you probably know the answer. And if you said his first name is Ed, we'd be in agreement. But our hero for this particular story isn't new Australian opener Ed Cowan - instead, it's former England player Ed Smith. Mind you though, most of the above could be true for Messrs. Cowan or Smith – and there's more to it than that. Both made their first-class debuts at a young age, for world-famous British universities (Cowan at 20 for Oxford, Smith at 18 for Cambridge); both struggled for about four years into their first-class careers; and both have a reputation for being intellectual in a career that doesn't always look that kindly on those outside the norm. ]]> In The Firing Line is about his 2010/2011 season, where his average average of 34 was partially balanced out by a century in the Sheffield Shield final that helped Tasmania to only their second-ever win. Smith's On And Off The Field narrates his amazing 2003 season, where he hit six centuries in six matches to metaphorically blast down the door to English selection down with a cannon, bazooka, laser and anything else that came to hand. Both wrote their diaries with very different home lives as well: Cowan is happily married to media personality Virginia Lette and settled in Hobart, while Smith broke up from his girlfriend and moved house just before the start of the 2003 season. Smith was already a published author by this point, his Playing Hard Ball: County Cricket and Big League Baseball comparing English professional cricket with Major League Baseball. What is uncanny about the two though is the similarity in writing styles. Both Eds reveal plenty about themselves in their diaries, how they treated triumph and disaster; and even the little tweaks they made to go from Ed Plodder to Ed Dasher. (No, I'm not going to tell you what they were - you have to read the books for that). So what happens next? For Ed Smith, that 64 on debut remained his highest score after his remaining four innings gave him just 23 runs and had him fade out of England contention. He continued playing for Kent for one more season before moving to Middlesex, retiring in 2008 before becoming a major writer for the Times newspaper. For Ed Cowan, that chapter is yet to be written. One hopes that when it is, it's written in a way that will continue to do credit to Eds the cricketing world over. ]]> Who is New Zealand's best after Hadlee? tag:blogs.espncricinfo.com,2011:/inbox//140.26763 2011-12-30T11:30:06Z 2012-01-01T11:17:51Z Nikita Bastian robin New Zealand's best bowler since Richard Hadlee, Shane Bond, had a career tarnished by injury that probably fell into the category of unfulfilled, rather than great © Getty Images
By Keith King, South Korea New Zealand is such a small country (many cities have more people than New Zealand’s four million-odd inhabitants) that, in many ways, is insignificant on the world stage. Sport is one avenue through which New Zealand and New Zealanders have asserted themselves on the world stage. For a country its size, New Zealand has done remarkably well in many sporting codes, including rugby and rugby league, netball and softball. For those that would argue (with some justification) that these are mere fringe sports in a global sense, New Zealanders have won both tennis and golf majors, made the semi-finals of the basketball World Championships and made the soccer World Cup finals twice (admittedly, they haven’t won a game yet once they have reached them). At the Summer Olympics, New Zealand has won 86 medals (which surprisingly enough is four times the number India, a country with a much greater population, has managed to win). Arguably, though, the one sport at which New Zealanders are not as competitive as they should be, despite taking it seriously, is cricket. Since New Zealand’s introduction to Test cricket in 1930, the New Zealand team (they weren’t known as the Black Caps until much later) has usually been at the bottom or near the bottom of the heap, the worst team going round. It took 26 years and 45 tests for New Zealand to register their first Test win. Australia wouldn’t even play their neighbours for a 27-year gap between 1946 and 1973, which must be rated as the ultimate cricketing cold shoulder. New Zealand has a win/loss ratio of 0.47, the lowest of all test teams barring Bangladesh and Zimbabwe (India has the next lowest win/loss ratio of 0.77, showing that it has not always been the powerhouse it is now). A brief respite was found with the introduction of Sri Lanka to Test cricket (the whipping boys of the 80s and early 90s) and then a more permanent one with the introduction of Bangladesh and Zimbabwe, who now seem to be the only teams New Zealand can reliably beat in test matches. ]]> in Hobart over Australia recently, where Doug Bracewell played his second match-winning hand in three Tests. Tests matches are often won on the strength of one innings or one spell, and great players obviously come up with match-turning moments more often than average ones. This led to the observation that New Zealand’s lack of success may be due to the fact that there has been a lack of great players, the type of player that can single-handedly change a match. The Australian team of the early 2000s could claim five or six greats, playing together at the same time. By contrast, only two New Zealanders would push for consideration in an all time World XI. One of them, Clarrie Grimmett, didn’t even play for New Zealand, instead leaving New Zealand as a largely unrecognised and unheralded youngster who eventually made his name in the baggy green of Australia, becoming the first player to take more than 200 Test wickets. It would be a stretch to claim Grimmett, the great Australian leg-spinner, for New Zealand. The other great, of course, is Richard Hadlee, who stands head and shoulders above any of his countrymen. He is a true cricketing great. When Hadlee was at his peak, in the 1980s until his retirement in 1990, New Zealand actually won more games than they lost. He was New Zealand’s greatest match-winner. Hadlee spearheaded a solid bowling line-up, that was described somewhat harshly but with some justification by Graham Gooch thus: it was like facing the “World XI at one end, and Ilford Second XI at the other”. Do any other New Zealanders aside from Hadlee (counting Grimmett as a New Zealander, while true, would be disingenuous in the extreme) qualify as greats? In an attempt to arrive at an answer, first of all, I started with the time honoured equations: a great batsman averages 50.00 or more, a great bowler under 25.00. No batsmen from New Zealand who has played 20 or more matches has averaged more than 50.00. Martin Crowe has the highest average of 45.00, and for a decade (1985-1994), he was considered one of the world’s premier batsmen (he averaged almost 54.00 during this period, the highest for any batsmen who played more than 20 tests in this era). Supporters of Crowe would argue that he was a great batsman and anyone who saw him bat during the 1991-92 World Cup would be likely to agree. Crowe had all the shots (or at least all the shots of that era), possessed a classical technique, was adept off both the front and back foot and was a deep thinker of the game. He was hampered both at the start and at the end of his career – at the start by being rushed into the New Zealand set-up before he was ready (a common occurrence in a country where true talent is so rare) and at the end by a crumbling body that he tried unsuccessfully to push past. Crowe is without doubt New Zealand’s best ever batsmen and as such may be the only New Zealand batsman to be genuinely described as great. There’s been several very good batsmen, like Glenn Turner, Martin Donnelly, Stewie Dempster, Bert Sutcliffe and Stephen Fleming. Turner is probably the next best, averaging 44 in Tests and the owner of 100 first-class centuries. However, a lot of his finest work was done at the first-class level and he missed six years of international cricket at the peak of his powers after clashes with administration (ironically, given his hard-nosed approach to player management during his stints as the coach of the national side). Bert Sutcliffe was a majestic player and played in a weak New Zealand team (he was never on the winning side in 42 Tests) but his average of 40.00 qualifies him only as a New Zealand great, not a great of the game. Fleming was a special player, hindered by a poor ratio of converting 50s into 100s, whose average of 40.00 ultimately meant he underperformed at the Test level. Dempster (15 innings) and Donnelly (12 innings) didn’t play enough Test cricket to be regarded greats, although both had formidable first-class records. On the bowling front, only three New Zealand bowlers average lesser than 25.00, Hadlee being one of them. The other two are potential greats who both had question marks beside their names, due mainly to their longevity. The first is Shane Bond, New Zealand’s best quick bowler since Hadlee, a bowler good enough to have the third-best strike-rate of all bowlers (50 wickets minimum) in Tests – he got a wicket every 38 balls – and, by the same criterion, the fifth-best strike-rate of all time in ODIs. He was on the winning side 10 out of his 18 matches, an astonishing strike-rate for a New Zealand player and a statistic that probably shows his value to the team. Unfortunately, injuries tarnished his legacy and his career probably falls into the category of unfulfilled, rather than great. The other bowler is Jack Cowie, whose career was interrupted by the World War II, a player who only played nine Tests but played them outstandingly well (45 wickets with a strike-rate of 45.00 and an average of just under 22.00). He was praised, at that time, as an outstanding bowler, and in the words of Wisden “had he been an Australian, he might have been termed a wonder of the age”. There are of course allrounders to consider. Allrounders have a special place in New Zealand cricket’s history. Being a cricketing country that shows fight, one more dependent on grit more than ability, New Zealand have often had players who can bat and bowl, reliant on them to do the jobs that other countries would leave to specialists. Apart from Hadlee, three allrounders come to mind: John Reid, Daniel Vettori and Chris Cairns. Reid, who played from the mid-40s to the mid-60s, was a giant of the New Zealand game but his average in both batting and bowling of 33-odd shows someone who was competent at both skills but a true great at neither. Vettori is someone similar; he has shouldered New Zealand’s bowling attack for more than a decade and has done well with the bat. However, one feels that he while he dominates the game in New Zealand, he is not a true great of the international game. Cairns overcame the folk hero legacy of his father and was, for a time, the world’s premier allrounder – one capable of shredding attacks and also capable of bowling wicket-taking balls on a regular basis (his strike-rate was an outstanding 53.00). His talent was so obvious that, at times, it felt like he had underachieved. His stats (batting average 33.00, bowling average 29.00) suggest otherwise and are comparable to Kapil Dev (batting average 31.00, bowling average 29.00) or even Ian Botham (batting average 33.00, bowling average 28.00), and are better than Andrew Flintoff’s (batting average 31.00, bowling average 32.00). Cairns has a valid claim to be one of the game’s great allrounders. What possibly counts against him is a failure to have an outstanding series against Australia, the dominant team of his era, à la Flintoff in the 2005 Ashes. This started as an exercise to try and show that New Zealand has produced more than one great player. Martin Crowe is a probable, Cowie and Bond are both would-have-beens and Cairns is, maybe, under-appreciated. An obvious question would be why has New Zealand only produced one unquestionably great player in 80 years of test cricket? Do all the best athletes in Zealand play rugby, leaving the scraps of the sporting gene pool for cricket? Is it because of the temperamental nature of our climate, the poor pitches that have blighted the first-class game (thankfully, this has improved over the past decade). Is it just representative of our small population base? Is it lower expectations? In New Zealand cricket, the equation for greatness would seem to be a batting average higher than 40.00 and for bowling, an average of 30.00 and below – much less demanding numbers than the standard in other countries. Whatever it is, there’s still the hope that a Williamson, a Taylor or a Bracewell can swell the ranks of genuinely great New Zealand players. ]]> Building up to Boxing Day tag:blogs.espncricinfo.com,2011:/inbox//140.26708 2011-12-25T15:40:11Z 2011-12-25T15:55:08Z Cricinfo From Rajan Iyer, Australia
Bring it on! © Getty Images
Melbourne, leading up to the traditional Boxing Day Test at the MCG is a city in a state of flux. In the build-up to the Christmas-New Year break during which most businesses are either shut or on skeleton staff, the last working days are a hive of shopping, last-minute work deadlines, end-of-year social events, some more shopping, sleep deprivation and some final midnight shopping to be sure. Christmas day itself, we are told, is a multi-pronged climax of church, cooking, relatives, heat, lunch, alcohol to excess, family feuds, a siesta if lucky, and a stupefied collapse into bed. It is thus that the relatively tranquil Boxing Day is looked forward to by everyone. For those who inquire of the etymology of Boxing Day, I am reliably informed it has to do with the unboxing of 55” flat screens and other embodiments of a consumerist culture picked up at the much-awaited Boxing Day sales, which these days begin well before Christmas. Where was I? Ah, yes, the looking forward to of Boxing Day. After the fraught build-up, it is but natural and traditional that the menfolk and their sons decamp to the calm and tranquil oasis of cricket with Christmas leftovers packed into ‘eskies’ and the womenfolk escape to the calm and tranquil oasis of…..shopping! Yes, I know, go figure. Irrespective of who’s playing, the Boxing Day audience at the MCG will always call into question the wild declamations of those who pronounce interest in Test cricket to be dead. Perhaps the frission of excitement caused by two teams, both strong and vulnerable in equal measure, has contributed to a near sell-out on the first day. The weather promises to be good, and apparently the Indian quicks bowled at full tilt in the MCG outdoor nets, which incidentally looked terribly green. Is this a portent of what the actual track will be like? An uncharacteristic green-top? Just one more sleep until we lumber up the MCG steps clad in green kurta, saffron shawl and white topi, clutching our tri-colour while our bags bulge with alu-puri and flasks of masala chai, all the better to lustily bellow ‘Viru sixer maaro’ to the tune of ‘We will, we will rock you’. Can’t wait!]]> Sehwag and the circle of the seasons tag:blogs.espncricinfo.com,2011:/inbox//140.26571 2011-12-15T19:32:20Z 2011-12-25T15:55:21Z Cricinfo From Debojit Dutta, India
Sachin Tendulkar once replaced Mohammad Azharuddin at the centre of Indian cricket's consciousness; it is but the circle of life that Virender Sehwag is now seemingly taking over that mantle © AFP
It was one of those occasions when deserted by your own vernacular you seek consolation in another’s vocabulary and when even that is found to be depleted, you are left haywire – fixated on fixing a proper adjective to your newfound emotion. That emotion which allures both, but falls neither on the lap of joy or sorrow. As it occurs to me quite often nowadays, I was dumbfounded and then appalled at my loss of words in describing Virender Sehwag's one-day double hundred. I missed out on the live telecast of the match, (for reasons best known to the people in my office, the television was tuned to an Indian news channel, Aaj Tak) I had to rely on ESPNcricinfo for score updates. "Sehwag reaches his 100 off 69 balls. And runs out Gambhir off the next ball. 176 for 1," they tweeted. All merry on this side. Viru had, after months of waiting, reached triple figures and keeping the upcoming Australia tour in mind, its timing could not have been better. Moments had passed in my juggling between Twitter and Facebook when someone updated their status pleading, "Sehwag, for heaven's sake don't score a double". The immediate response was to laugh, laugh out loud. I did, and then regretted it. The profundity of the Facebook status was much greater than plainly visible. For what Sehwag was chasing was not a mere figure. For a generation born a couple of decades ago, it was a brutal invasion on their years of growing up.]]> mian kaptan banoge? (man, do you want to be the captain?) – in 1989 gave birth to the new-age casualness, Azhar also brought a necessary face-lift to the way India approached the game. The era of Ajay Jadeja and Robin Singh was pioneered by their carefree captain. Much before Mohammad Kaif, Yuvraj Singh and Suresh Raina learned to dirty their laundry, Azhar, one of India’s finest fielders, had mastered the art of mud-mingling. His rise to fame, jostling past the elders to elderliness, extra-marital affair, eventual divorce and remarriage … Azhar gave the fans their first celluloid cricketer, before he himself robbed them off it. Of Azhar, it could be said that he was brash and unpolished. There were stories about him being aloof, allegedly always at loggerheads with the seniors of the team. The media talked about his linkups with bookies. Vinod Mehta in his autobiography The Lucknow Boy recollects an incident during which Azhar, on winning the toss against Pakistan, pocketed the coin and claimed to have lost it to Aamir Sohail. His crimes were fragrant, not that he cared to hide them. And it was this puzzling impunity that separated Azhar from the rest. Rohit Brijnath wrote in his column for ESPNcricinfo: "He (Azhar) was my favourite, because no sportsman ever made me struggle so much, no Indian athlete demanded so much inner debate, no cricketer so confused the senses." He was liked because he wasn't perfect; he was liked because he never tried to be liked. However, the turn of the decade changed all that. In the match-fixing fiasco, which still rests like an indelible scar on the face of Indian cricket, Azharuddin was found to be the most culpable of all sinners. This blow was hard to swallow for even the most ardent of Azhar followers. Somewhere between all this, but hardly under anyone's shadow, emerged a curly-haired kid. His rise was inversely proportional to Azhar's fall. By the time the fixing scandal broke, he was already an established star. Tendulkar stood in contrast to the former’s frivolity. A complete antithesis, he was more consistent, hardworking and disciplined, and he lacked the petulance that his long-time captain was inebriated with. Our fathers' invention was fast-slipping out of their own embrace, they knew, still it was shameful to adopt the insignificants' imagination. To the generation gone by, all things we found ‘cool’ were scornful luxuries: burgers, pizzas, the new colas, the very word 'cool' and every other evil that liberalisation of the Indian economy brought. Sachin seemed to emblemise this change; he scored quickly, his batting was fizzy in a way and he could also be described using that word, if I am allowed to use it three times in one paragraph. They looked at him with childish cynicism, as if he was the reason why Campa Cola lost its vitality. Our Tendlya would dance down the ground, swat the balls all around, score at run-a-ball (if not more than that) and then endorse everything from Power shoes to ‘Visa power’. The coming generation of engineer-cum-writers, doctor-cum-actors, accountant-cum-singers who were bent on breaking conventional barricades had got their multi-tasker to look up to. For some, Sachin exceeded the game itself. I know people who remember the exact Sachin innings that coincided with the appearance of their first pimple, and also those who would tell you about the time they first parted with the peach fuzz over their physiognomy and Sachin scored a duck, following which, for months, they didn’t pick up a razor again. Amid all adulation and idolisation Sachin kept his conquest going. Undeterred by the flurry of off-field activities, he continued churning out boundaries, waitressing to the insatiable millions. Sehwag showed up and vanished and showed up again. On his debut, which he made in a One-Day International against Pakistan in 1999, much less stouter than he now is, Sehwag looked totally innocuous. He scored only one run, before falling LBW to Shoaib Akhtar, and went for 35 in the three overs he bowled. His positioning in the batting order — at No. 7, below the likes of Saba Karim, Khurasiya and Robin Singh — showed that even to the team management he was rather inconsequential. In his next stint in national colours, which came after almost two years in the wilderness, Sehwag performed admirably. In his fourth match, in a series against Australia, he made 58 (off 54 balls) and then picked up three wickets to bag the Man-Of-the-Match award. So far, so good. Sehwag did shine in the series but so did Vijay Dahiya. Conceiving him to be a utility player, I even made him a regular in my favourite game, book-cricket. With Sachin unavailable for the tour of Sri Lanka that followed, Sehwag was promoted to open the innings. Sehwag delivered a hidden message in his 69-ball century against New Zealand. I failed to decipher. It was the third fastest hundred by an Indian. But accidents do happen, I had said to myself. In every innings thereafter, he started giving tuitions on hard-hitting. The 'nervous nineties' were nervous of him. Even when on 99 he would attempt the big hits and when he faltered, there was no shame, no discontent. The jat from Najafgarh who had hardly envisaged fame would walk towards the pavilion with a self-assured contentment. Blasphemous comparisons to Tendulkar were made. Stance, shots and even physical attributes were measured and, when human vision failed, they resorted to graphics. As if the need was to establish a dummy. During most part of the 90s, when Sachin scored in losing causes, I had seen placards asking for 'Ten more Tendulkars'. Those statements were laudatory, these comparisons bordered on lunacy. But soon, the dummy started looking livelier, at times shining brighter than the deity. Sehwag soon formulated his own brand of atheism. He preceded a number of players who would wear their heart on their sleeves, cover it with their armbands and advertise it to their fancy. Harsha Bhogle's tweet after Sehwag reached his double hundred was, "I wonder sometimes if Sehwag achieves these landmarks because he doesn't worry about achieving them." It is true. Nothing bothers. Nothing worries him. For ‘seriousness’ and ‘nervousness’, it would appear, had been parted with when he parted with the placenta. Wanting to not fall prey to the rules of evolution, to not allow my dream become a requiem so soon, I have tried various tricks of sustenance. To my little cousin, in eulogies—guised as lullabies, I would preach how great a batsman Sachin was. How much faster he was, still, and how much more responsible and steady. Flashbacks now remind me how, in stages of life, we all are juxtaposed. How, in clockwise alignment, 'me' and 'my cousin', 'dad' and 'me', we all stand. My cousin, who was barely four or five years old, at the time of my preaching, soon gave up all I had infused in him. He must have celebrated Sehwag's double-hundred. Of course, Sehwag, in the process of scoring it surpassed Sachin's 200, previously the highest individual score by any player in a 50-overs game. But the next time we meet, I will brag about how my hero still remains the first cricketer to reach the landmark. Bring it on.]]> Bangladesh are going backwards tag:blogs.espncricinfo.com,2011:/inbox//140.26520 2011-12-12T11:52:50Z 2012-01-31T10:53:50Z Cricinfo Mohammad Ashraful's career sums up Bangladesh's performance over the last decade: plenty of promise but not much success due to dodgy technique and temperament © BCB Media
From Daniel Stone, United Kingdom Bangladesh's Test match status has been debated ever since they were awarded full membership by the ICC a little over 11 years ago. Bangladesh played their first Test match in November 2000, and since then have won just three of 72 matches, with a staggering 62 losses. Even those three wins were not much to cheer about, as they came against Zimbabwe and a severely weakened West Indies team. The team has shown some signs of improvement in ODI cricket over the last few years with a few surprise victories – the 4-0 drubbing of New Zealand at home last October, for example – but in 2011, it has been clear that they are actually taking backward steps. Bangladesh are too reliant on their world-class allrounder, Shakib Al Hasan, and Tamim Iqbal, one of Wisden’s five cricketers of 2010. Talented youngsters like Mahmudullah and Nasir Hossain have shown encouraging signs, but Bangladesh just don't have enough star players to compete with the more established teams. Mohammad Ashraful's career sums up Bangladesh's performance over the last decade. He showed plenty of promise and was obviously very talented, but he couldn't kick on after a good start due to dodgy technique and temperament. Their 2011 World Cup campaign resulted in them being bowled out for under 100 twice, including an embarrassing 58 all out in Mirpur against an average West Indies attack. ]]> If Bangladesh are severely struggling in their favoured format, then it doesn't bode well for their Test future. There are many areas of concern, but their main problem is the batting. Tamim, seemingly, has tried to emulate Virender Sehwag by scoring run-a-ball centuries and he has been reasonably successful in his short international career to date. Consistency is where he and his team-mates falter. The batsmen might produce the odd wonder innings but more often than not they fall early in their innings. This is why most of their batting averages are down in the 20s. The batsmen fail to knuckle down and grind out an innings, and this lack of fight is very disappointing to cricket fans around the world. It's as if they don't want to be out there in the middle. However, it isn't just the batting that is sub-standard. Their bowling also lacks the firepower that is needed for Test cricket. The seam attack is virtually non-existent and five-wicket hauls are as rare as wins. Shakib is a highly skilled spinner, but that he outshines his team-mates even in this aspect is not something to be celebrated. These cricketers obviously have plenty of talent but during their international careers, they haven't converted that promise into match-winning performances, meaning Bangladesh remain at the bottom of the ladder. That Zimbabwe are showing signs of improvement on their return to Test cricket only heightens the challenge that Bangladesh face. While most countries around them are improving, they appear to be in steady decline. It is a very sad situation that Bangladeshi cricket is in. Many cricket fans have been willing them to do well over the past decade, but many have now lost faith in the subcontinent outfit. It is likely that they are going nowhere. Pakistan's welcome turnaround tag:blogs.espncricinfo.com,2011:/inbox//140.26490 2011-12-10T07:38:18Z 2011-12-25T15:55:45Z Cricinfo From Safwan Umair, Pakistan
Saeed Ajmal is part of the best spin attack in world cricket today © AFP
Does an ODI series sweep over Bangladesh merit an overzealous celebration? Should we feel ecstatic and make merry? Given the state of affairs in Bangladesh cricket, a resounding ‘no’ is the answer. From the perspective of a Pakistani cricket fan though, this latest win marks 12 months of unusually consistent success. There has been so much controversy in the past few years that any on-field performance or the lack of it hardly made headlines. Most news clips either focused on Pakistan’s cricketing venues missing international cricket, or lambasting the PCB's comical leadership. For many other media personnel, dissecting the dreaded spot-fixing fiasco was the only matter of interest. One wondered if the real essence of Pakistan cricket had been perpetually lost to a horde of incessant controversies. Brick by brick and inch by inch, sanity, serenity and dignity is returning to Pakistan cricket. Various factors have contributed to this turnaround. The masterstroke perhaps, post the calamitous England tour last summer, was the appointment of the calm Misbah-ul-Haq as captain. One of the greatest ironies in Pakistan cricket also revolves around the same man. A natural captain and an automatic batting selection had turned 37 before sealing a permanent slot in the side. The ODI results have been encouraging. A competitive Test side has gradually evolved courtesy a dependable set of openers and three solid, if unspectacular, middle-order batsmen in Azhar Ali, Younis Khan and Misbah. A mind-boggling flow of fast-bowling talent in Pakistan has ensured that the departure of Mohammad Amir and Mohammad Asif only helped unearth the likes of Junaid Khan and Aizaz Cheema. Saeed Ajmal is also at the top of his game, and together with Shahid Afridi, Abdur Rehman and Mohammad Hafeez, he’s part of the most potent spin attack in the game. ]]> ODI winning percentage among all international teams, 77.41% to be precise. During the same period, Pakistan’s Test match win-loss ratio stood at 4.00, second only to the unbeaten England side. Three of the four Test wins came against New Zealand, Zimbabwe and the West Indies but, more importantly, no Test series was lost. This included a respectable draw against South Africa and a recent win over a higher-ranked Sri Lanka. The most pleasing aspect so far has been the elimination of the ‘unpredictability’ factor. Watching a Pakistan team play consistent cricket without the fear of an imminent collapse or controversy is a welcome relief. However, the true mettle of Pakistan’s cricketing progress will be tested by England in the UAE ,in January, in what promises to be a gripping contest. ]]> Destiny, and an unforgettable domestic game tag:blogs.espncricinfo.com,2011:/inbox//140.26443 2011-12-07T10:09:07Z 2011-12-25T15:55:57Z Cricinfo From Pradeep Ramarathnam, USA
Two men experienced similar turnarounds in a Ranji ODI back in 1994. One of them has gone on to become an all-time great. The other never played for his state again © Getty Images
Last year, some 500 people saw the Ranji finals at the ground. The ones who didn’t turn up have no idea what they were missing. Away from the glare of international media, with dirt cheap ticket rates and questionable security, a domestic game is a great chance to get up close with cricket. And if you are lucky, you might witness something close to what I saw in 1994. The winter of ’93 was an unusual time for Tamilians in Bangalore. After years, no decades, of a seamless, unobtrusive civil orchestra with the local Kannada populace, there was a simmering undercurrent of uneasy tension. A first attempt at resolving the Cauvery water dispute was made by the British Government in 1890.Mysore and Madras gave way to Karnataka and Tamil Nadu, but like Cromwell’s warts, the problem refused to go away. Instead, it lurked menacingly, threating to spill blood the instant anyone would so much as stoke it. After a tribunal verdict went against Karnataka’s favor in ’91, large scale riots broke out across both neighbouring states. Some counts put the urban Tamil population in Bangalore at a staggering 38%, with a healthy number of Kannada speakers in Chennai. Bellicose politicians on an unabashed publicity binge only added fuel to the fire. Buses were stoned, shutters were down, but the 1994 Subbiah Pillai Trophy tie – Ranji ODIs for South Zone teams – was on schedule between Karnataka and Tamil Nadu in January 1994. ]]> I remember this game like it were yesterday, because it was the last game I saw at a ground with my grandfather .It was also the first domestic game I saw live. The plan was to take off to Rex theatre in the afternoon if the game got boring. I was 13, and I was fairly sure I was going to see Madhuri Dixit on the big screen that day, or, at the very least, get a nice nap in the sun and a chance at some autographs on the boundary. Nothing prepared me for what was to happen later. It was, at the end of the day, a game of such relentless drama and one I can never forget. Between them, Karnataka and TN had 10 players who were picked for India at some point. For Karnataka, there was Rahul Dravid , a most affable senior from my coaching camp, who I was particularly looking forward to watching, Javagal Srinath, Venkatesh Prasad, Sunil Joshi, Anil Kumble and not to forget Syed Kirmani who, while past his prime, was still a heavy contributor with the bat, almost making it to the ’91-92 tour to Aus. Tamil Nadu had WV Raman, Robin Singh, the cavalier VB Chandrashekar , Sunil Subramaniam – now back in the news for coaching R Ashwin to 22 wickets in his debut series – and the fierce M Senthilnathan. But the one person who will never forget this day, is Shyam Chandra Bhat, the young Karnataka opener. Bhat had shown enough promise in his debut season to be seen as a viable long-term replacement for seasoned domestic contributor Carlton Saldanha. His one-day career got off to a promising start with a 50 on debut, but in a line-up including Dravid, Kirmani and captain Kartik Jeshwant, Bhat was not expected to steal the headlines. As it turned out, Karnataka batted first and young Bhat rode roughshod over TN with a chanceless 124. He particularly took to Robin Singh, who conceded the most runs. Bhat was well supported by Dravid, who finished unbeaten on 81.Between them, they scored the bulk of Karnataka’s total score of 284. After two innings, SC Bhat averaged 87 – it was that easy for him. There were more people that day at the Chinnaswamy stadium than at the three India v West Indies Tests put together. After Bhat and Dravid’s masterpieces, people streamed in as entry was made free. River water was a grey area, but at least a cricket match would be won against the arch rivals. Tamil Nadu’s VB Chandrashekar had grabbed everyone’s attention in the 1988 Irani game. Hooking helmetless against a line-up of India fast bowlers , VB let rip an innings of staggering brilliance and ferocity. He had ended up with a 100 off 56 balls, the fastest first-class hundred by an Indian. Sadly VB’s international career never took off, ending abruptly in a slew of single-digit scores. Against arguably the best bowling line-up in the domestic scene, a washed out VB was unlikely to make any sort of impact. If things went well, I thought I could catch the 2.00 pm show after Srinath knocked over VB. As it turned out, VB chose that day to try out the forward defensive. In an innings of sustained aggression, he weathered Srinath and Prasad early on, and scored heavily off the spinners, especially Kumble, who went for 58 off his 10.When Kumble did get VB stumped for 88, TN were 170/2, with Robin Singh walking in to join the fluent WV Raman. With four top-notch India bowlers, all Karnataka had to do was find a half decent fifth bowler. Back in those days, Jeshwant did the job, bowling left arm spin. That day, however, he decided to let the two youngsters Bhat and Dravid , brimming with confidence after their superlative batting display, have a bowl. Unmitigated disaster followed. Raman and Robin went on to make half-centuries, falling to the fast bowlers after taking TN mighty close. Bhat bowled two overs. His first one went for 16 and his second, which he bowled well into the slog overs, went for 25. Dravid sent down three overs for close to thirty. Jeshwant went for just under five runs per over in his spell. TN had the combative D Vasu at the crease for the last over. Karnataka, with Srinath, Prasad, Joshi and Kumble having bowled out, tossed the ball to Dravid. The game ended half way into the over. Dravid, after his 81 in the morning, ended with 3.3-0-36-0.The game was lost. What followed next was mayhem. As the players trudged back to the pavilion, chairs were hurled into the field. Not one, not two, dozens of pieces of fine KSCA property were pelted down the path of the Karnataka fielders, many of the projectiles hurled at one man – the centurion and hero of the morning, Shyam Chandra Bhat. After a good fifteen to twenty minutes of sustained abuse (I was 13, I made notes), the cops finally got into the act to restore some sense of sanity. In the stadium at least. The Bodyline series is truly one of the most romantic episodes of cricket. Harold Larwood never played a Test after that series, and eventually moved to Australia, the very team, and country he traumatized in 1932. He would later become a softdrinks salesman. Dravid probably doesn’t even remember this game, has over 20,000 international runs , and is still going strong. Bhat never played a game for Karnataka after that season, and that 124 was to be his last limited-overs knock. In one game, he had seen enough. For seventeen years now, SC Bhat remains an honest banker living somewhere in Chennai, probably watching his erstwhile partner in crime carve hundred after Test hundred, and wondering what might have been. Daniel Vettori, lower-order saviour tag:blogs.espncricinfo.com,2011:/inbox//140.26442 2011-12-07T09:55:39Z 2011-12-25T15:56:09Z Cricinfo From Keith King, South Korea
Daniel Vettori has scored more Test runs than anyone else at No. 8 © Getty Images
Another Test, and another disappointment for that long-suffering breed, the New Zealand cricket fan. New Zealand cricket has never been a powerhouse but currently, the team is ranked eighth out of 10 teams, with only Bangladesh and Zimbabwe below them. They had just beaten Zimbabwe in a Test, but only just. Australia are far from the team they were five years ago, when the team list read like the roll-call of all-time greats. Now they are seen as vulnerable and the possibility of New Zealand beating Australia in a Test for the first time since 1993 had been written up in the New Zealand press, with even ex-players expressing that the game was New Zealand's to win. Such hyperbole ignored the fact that much like the All Blacks, there is never a bad Australian cricket team. Some just aren't as good as others. It also ignored the fact that the New Zealand seam attack consisting of Chris Martin, Tim Southee and Doug Bracewell, while probably the best New Zealand has to offer, is still well short of being world class. Martin, the aging but seemingly tireless spearhead averaged over 70 in Tests against Australia; Southee, while highly promising, still averaged over 40 in Tests and Bracewell had only played in one, the one in Zimbabwe that the New Zealanders only just won. True, Daniel Vettori is a classy spin bowler but not the sort of bowler to run through Australia in Australia. ]]> average from 2003, the year where he made his first Test century until now, he averages 40 runs per innings with six centuries (before 2003, his average was 16.25 with no centuries). The batting numbers of New Zealand players in the time period between 2003 and 2011 reveals a few interesting facts. Vettori is the highest run-getter in the period, and has the fifth best average during this time (15 Tests minimum), outperforming the likes of Brendon McCullum. Of course, it goes without saying that he has been our most valuable all-round player. He has played the role of both main attacking and main defensive bowler, often bowling himself into the ground. Martin is the only other player to have captured over 100 wickets in this period. Shane Bond was perhaps the only New Zealand bowler who was more important to the team than Vettori, but unfortunately Bond only managed to play 10 Tests in this period due to chronic injury concerns. Several players including McCullum, a player of rare talent but questionable shot selection, have a lower batting average than Vettori. This would suggest that McCullum, for one has definitely underperformed as a Test player. So why doesn’t Vettori bat higher in the order, given that he is one of New Zealand’s best batsmen? He does seemingly have an unflappable character, capable of performing in situations under high pressure. Despite his ability and his results, there has been a reluctance to push him higher up the order, a reluctance shared by selectors, fans and presumably by Vettori himself. After all, over the last eight years (64 Tests), Vettori has averaged more than what Hussain, Atherton, Hooper, Atapattu, Wright, Kapil Dev, Ranatunga and Botham did over their whole careers. There still remains the feeling that he doesn’t belong in the top six of an international team. When he has batted in the top six, his average is about 30 (this figure will be skewed from times when he batted as a night watchman in the earlier part of his career). In contrast, he averages about 40 at No. 8 (he is in fact the most successful No. 8 batsman in the history of Test cricket). For the time being, Vettori will continue to serve as New Zealand’s lower order savior, trying to remedy the flaws inherent in the talented but inconsistent New Zealand top-order.]]> The ups and downs of English fandom tag:blogs.espncricinfo.com,2011:/inbox//140.26400 2011-12-04T17:26:44Z 2011-12-25T15:56:24Z Cricinfo England supporters could now look to the future with hope, a hope supported with evidence © Getty Images
From Ewan Day-Collins, UK Sustained success has never been something particularly associated with England. While other more tenacious nations choose the path of pragmatism, seeking longevity in their position of power, England never seem to have consistency in their play. Supporting England has been a trial of patience, the pain occasionally forgotten when victorious moments such as the Ashes victory in 2005 occur. These moments precede a sharp snap back to reality when yet another defeat soon turns up to spoil the joyous celebrations. A sense of optimism is stimulated by just a small sign of possible power, before yet more tribulations soon quash that feeling. It is these inklings of brilliance that keep the fans and the fanatical Barmy Army turning up, judicious beliefs, sometimes seemingly obvious outcomes that are often overtaken and nullified by unrealistic thoughts of prosperity. We lambaste the players, the coach, the ECB, when things go wrong, of course. But the constant flux in results creates rapid forgiveness, before more accusations are thrown at whoever is seen fit to receive them. ]]> whitewash against India on home soil. We have confidence in the team, though only continuing success will ensure their security as past experiences have detailed. Now we look ahead with the faith that the team will do well, after so many years of poor performances, punctuated with brief moments of greatness. We seek more of this greatness, and hope it is more regularly achieved. As an England supporter, I do not see the future will trepidation now but with hope, a hope this time supported with evidence. I am not ashamed, when in the company of Australians, to declare my nationality, though I am wise enough to maintain a clear sense of reality: the England team must not become ostentatious or pretentious, but must exert its authority as the world’s No. 1 in the Test arena. Perhaps now, speaking as a supporter inspired rather than embarrassed, England will make up for years of austerity. But we must not enter the dangerous land of complacency, otherwise, once more, our expectations will not be duly met. ]]> Watching cricket at the Wankhede tag:blogs.espncricinfo.com,2011:/inbox//140.26290 2011-11-27T02:53:56Z 2011-12-25T15:56:35Z Cricinfo The moment the crowd didn't want to miss: Sachin Tendulkar walking out to bat © Associated Press
From Arish Rajan, India
I have never watched cricket in a stadium. I remember when Sachin made his debut. That was around the time I started paying attention to cricket. It is now 22 years and he will be gone soon. Even Dravid and Laxman will be gone soon. They have been wonderful heroes. For once I decided I must go to a stadium. I must see them bat once in real life, before they go away. I live in Pune, a few hours from Mumbai, making the Wankhede Test my obvious choice. I bought a season ticket via the internet, but of course work does not allow you to take five days off. So day three was chosen. A full day of India batting and maybe even the amazing century of centuries might happen. Getting inside the stadium In India, it is still not easy to get inside a cricket stadium. I woke up at 4.30am. Took a 5.30am bus to Mumbai from Pune. Reached Dadar (Mumbai's transport hub) and then took the local train to Churchgate station, which adjoins Wankhede stadium. Reached Churchgate around 9.40am. India still loves Sachin and so it still loves Test cricket. The road outside the Churchgate station was full of people desperately looking for tickets. I felt great having the prized ticket in my hand. The first step is to submit your printed online confirmation to get the actual ticket. This was luckily easy for me. I saw that office quickly. But if you are unlucky then you could be roaming around for half an hour searching for it. ]]> Watching the cricket But two sessions are still there. In the queue everyone had only one thought. Sachin ki entry nahi miss honee chahiye. Jaldi chalo andar. (Can’t miss Sachin’s entry, get in soon.) It was probably like the anticipation for an Amitabh movie in 80s or a Rajni movie today. I get inside and find that Gambhir and Dravid are batting. Entry miss nahi huwi (didn’t miss the entry). The first thing that strikes you is the beauty of the ground. A cricket stadium has a beautiful atmosphere inside. The second thing was the size of cricketers. They were not special in anyway. Just average guys. Some of the West Indies players are really small and scrawny. Test matches seem to have quite a relaxed pace. The West Indies fielders stood around lazily. We used to play some good competitive weekend cricket with tennis ball. Many of us were passionate guys, running fast singles and chasing the ball hard to save the boundary. Then there would be a few lazy ones who would try to get a fielding position in the shade where the ball doesn’t come often. The fielders on the ground looked like the lazy ones in our team. A real cricket ground is also not very large. Our weekend cricket ground was almost as big, though we did not have runs behind the stumps. Things started brightly. It is pleasant to watch cricket in the winter sun. Dravid reached 13,000 runs in Test cricket. The cheers went on and on. I am glad I could be a part of it. Then he reached 1000 runs for this year, more cheers. Gambhir hits a couple of crisp boundaries. The crowd became affectionate and started calling him Gauti and then Gautiya with a Mumbai lisp. Then he gets out, and the crowd knows who is going to come. The affection is forgotten. The West Indies team and the crowd, everybody is happy. Actually the crowd is happier than the West Indies team. Sachin walks in. I think most of us will recognise him even if he wears a mask. We know each of his little mannerisms. The way he walks, stands, jogs or looks up to the sky. The crowd erupts. The cheers go on and on. For some time, each of his runs are cheered. Test cricket seems to be a game of skill. You hardly feel any power. It is all timing. Frankly you end up thinking that batting is quite easy. Let me go in and face an over, you think. Bowling looks quite difficult. Whatever they do, batsmen easily hit them around. Ravi Rampaul though was able to send down a few good bouncers. Then Dravid got out. Everybody feels for him. The crowd in a stadium is different from people watching TV cricket. They love the players more and criticise less. I think many were like me, coming to see these three heroes for one last time. Laxman comes in and I think he gets almost as hearty a welcome as Sachin. Vee Vee S ... Vee Vee S... Vee Vee S. Inside the stadium, this chanting resonates and creates an eerie effect. Batting continues to look easy. Poor Fidel Edwards gets tonked around every time he comes in with his extra pace. Then batsmen slow down towards the end of day. You could easily doze off around this time. But it is a happy contented sleep. The day is over, but we get an unexpected treat. Virat Kohli and Dhoni come out for practice. We stand around for a while. Some girl keeps screaming Virat … Virat. It is time to leave now, and a long journey back home. It was 11.30 pm when I reach home. A kind of warm happy afterglow envelops me. Back in college one used to be really happy. While leaving college, I had thought that I would re-create that feeling again and again. Today I have to admit that I haven’t been able to do so. But once in a while you come across a really happy day. Like this one. Cricket in the stadium is a far more beautiful sport than what you see in TV. Try it once.]]> MR Rangarathnam, Legspinner (1923-2001) tag:blogs.espncricinfo.com,2011:/inbox//140.26224 2011-11-22T13:07:52Z 2011-12-25T15:56:47Z From Pradeep Ramaratnam, USA My grandfather was an amazing man. The shipment of my books, from Mumbai along with the rest of my stuff arrived in New York this morning. All mental and physical faculties were singularly focused on ensuring... Cricinfo From Pradeep Ramaratnam, USA My grandfather was an amazing man. The shipment of my books, from Mumbai along with the rest of my stuff arrived in New York this morning. All mental and physical faculties were singularly focused on ensuring they were stacked in their rightful positions in my bookshelf. Fat History Books at the bottom, Craig Thompson, Gaiman and Sacco at the top and my beloved cricket books at eye level. I was almost done, when I chanced upon The MCC 1787-1937. My grandpa grew up in a place called Manathattai in Tamil Nadu, India. Growing up, we were conned into thinking it is a village, while all it was was an “Agraharam”, a tenement of nine or ten homes, with fewer people than at my neighbourhood Irish Bar on a Tuesday afternoon. So his first real brush with cricket came in college, when he had a chance to be coached by the legendary AG Ram Singh.]]> Vizzy (he had a masseur tend to him between innings), Rajam from Swami and Friends (he had 4 Junior Willard bats) and Sultan Zarawani (he had a car).I would like to believe the Kulithalai town administration declared a holiday the day after my grandfather won them their most important match. I can’t remember if my grandfather gave me any toys or comic books. I do remember, though, on my ninth birthday, there was a cricket kit and a copy of Bradman’s How to Play cricket waiting for me. On my tenth birthday, my granddad pulled out an innocuous bunch of bound Sport and Pastime magazines from the 40s. I saw pictures of the Bedser Brothers and Vijay Merchant, I saw pictures of Vizzy, who seemed exactly what I thought he would be like (an overgrown Billy Bunter), and read a most magnificent anthology of Jack Hobbs by, of all people, Dattu Phadkar. I came 51st out of 55 students in my fourth standard finals.But I was going to be a leg spinner, just like my grandpa. As years grew by, my granddad fed my fascination with cricket with books I have never seen since - Cricket Delightful by Mushtaq Ali (with a foreword by Keith Miller. Respect), Indian Cricket’s almanacks of the late 40s, and a most magnificent Esso Scrapbook when the MCC team visited in 1961. And so on. I fell asleep on his bed many times , listening to why CF Walters trumped Frank Woolley in the elegance stakes and how MA Sathasivam from Ceylon made the greatest double hundred he ever saw, in the MJ Gopalan trophy between Tamil Nadu and Sri Lanka. I never saw Walters, or Sathasivam, or Ramchand or Vasant Ranjane. But I have an unpixellated, graphic picture in my head of what their backlift must have looked like, what their run-ups must have looked like, and I am fairly sure I’m close to the real thing. My grandfather was a man of incredible virtue. He said in his time, a batsman was given not out if even the wrist of the fielder catching the ball touched the ground.He would have cringed at Ponting in the Sydney Test of ’08. He extended his values to other facets of life. Businessmen of high repute and who possessed many safari suits were summarily discharged from my house if they tried to bribe the good chartered accountant.My grandfather never even “thumbed”, while playing carrom, a form of cheating so accepted, it is incorporated in the rules now. It has been 10 years since he left us. But I have hung on to his memory, like Eknath Solkar to an inside edge. His memory, and his incredible impact on me growing up lives through these faded, yellowing books. And it is for this reason, that I will never be sick of cricket. As I said, my grandfather was an amazing man.]]> Sachin Tendulkar's ton of tons tag:blogs.espncricinfo.com,2011:/inbox//140.26166 2011-11-18T12:31:35Z 2011-12-25T15:56:59Z Cricinfo From Pushkar Gupte, India
Does it matter whether Sachin Tendulkar gets another hundred? © AFP
That elusive ton. Does it even matter if or when he gets it? The "If" is hypothetical, for get it he will. Maybe not at Wankhede, maybe not even at Melbourne. Get it he will - in due course of time. But for a moment – let’s indulge our pessimism and consider the thought that he does not in fact get there and remains stranded at 99 tons. Given the form he is in, given how sweetly he has been timing the ball, given the beauty with which he has been playing his drives - there seems no doubt that he will keep scoring runs. And like at the Kotla - his runs will contribute to wins. He might get run down by the pressure of expecting the 100th, might get out in the 90s or even before as he starts chasing a landmark that weighs on his mind. But if in this melee - he fails to convert his form into a ton - will it really matter? 33K international runs. 200 international wickets. 22 years of batting at the top of the pile. One world cup. An ODI double ton. When time passes by and we remember - will we even remember if he got his 100th? ]]> The sandstorm, the thwack over third man off Shoaib, the hook off Glenn McGrath in Nairobi, a pristine balanced cover drive, being lifted on their shoulders by his young team-mates, the wincing in pain but cruelly falling short 136, the pummelling of Olonga, the disintegration of Warne. His greatness - in numbers or more importantly in our minds - will not be enhanced by yet another ton. It won’t diminish if he does not get there. Let’s just let him be. The 100th will happen - hopefully a 300 will materialise along the way - but the last thing we need to do is pile on the pressure for a landmark that will be good to have but mean nothing. In the meantime, while he takes his own sweet time in getting there – let’s just enjoy the fact that we have a freak opener who can churn out runs in the blink of an eye, a No. 3 who - if it were not for the chronological fact of existing in the same era as our current No. 4 - would have been celebrated even more, a No. 5 whose batting is so elegant that it’s a dream to watch. The milestones will come during the journey, let’s lay off the pressure to make the milestones the journey.]]>